


Where Nothing Stays Buried

by jewelswrites_ish



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, criminal minds - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-11-04 16:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelswrites_ish/pseuds/jewelswrites_ish
Summary: After Aaron Hotchner leaves the FBI BAU, he moves to New York in an attempt to lead a normal life; that was until NY BAU Captain Isabella Gambino contacted him, offering him a position in New York's newest task force. The New York City Behavioral Analysis Unit. It took much time, but Hotchner agreed. Learn how he copes with a new team and a new leader who has secrets of her own.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

“Aaron Hotchner.” New York City’s finest had had enough of the constant crimes being committed against the tourists, as well as the long-time residents. It took years in the making but the mayor finally rounded up enough funds to create the state’s own Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU). Hearing the departure of one of the Federal Bureau of Investigations (FBI) BAU members, Isabella Gambino took advantage of the opportunity and contacted Aaron Hotchner herself. One of the disadvantages of working with the FBI’s branch is the constant hours working outside of the state, sometimes outside of the country. It is this kind of life that broke apart families and lured those without any strong emotional ties.

Aaron Hotchner lost his wife due to the lifestyle.

Moving him from Special Agent Aaron Hotchner to BAU Detective was a chance she had to take. No traveling and being home every night meant the man would be home in time to tuck in his son.

It took a few months of convincing but Hotchner decided to take the job after the realization that he would not be comfortable with being a stay-at-home dad. Despite the reward of being present for his son’s activities and events, Hotchner was simply not built for that kind of life.

“It’s a pleasure to have you on our team.” Happily the head of the NY BAU shook the hand of the former FBI agent. “I’m a big fan; I’ve read every case your former team has worked on. You did incredible work.”

“Thank you,” the man mumbled with a nod. “It’s a pleasure to be here.” The duo stood outside of the new BAU precinct created specifically for the team and everything involved. The purpose was if any of the many NY precinct districts in the state had opened cases for the BAU, they could contact the Headquarters if necessary. “It’s impressive,” Aaron spoke, looking up to the building.

“Finished last year,” Isabella responded. “We were held up in what I can only compare it to as an abandoned high school gymnasium.” A small snort sounded from her throat. She stood next to him, analyzing his attire. Like undercover cops, Isabella and her team wore business casual attire; Hotch wore a business suit.  _ ‘Makes sense,’ _ she thought, already knowing how professional, stern and by-the-books Aaron was. “Ready to meet your new team?” Isabella asked, clapping her hands together. Beckoning for him to follow, Hotch did just that; holding open the door for her.

Walking into the front lobby, it looked as if it belonged in an executive company building; it was large and open with waiting lounge chairs littering the walls. “Like other police precincts, we get walk ins. Probably not the best idea since a lot of lunatics do come in but we’ve gotten and solved three cases from some of the witness accounts.” The ‘gatekeeper’ nodded toward Gambino as she flashed her badge. “You’ll receive all your credentials when you get to your desk and your gun is waiting for you in my office.”

“When you’re brought in to an investigation, do you take it over or do you work with that precinct?” Aaron questioned; his eyes forward.

“Good question,” the woman praised. “We take it over,” she answered, putting an emphasis on Aaron’s involvement. “Most of us were previously detectives or somewhere in the same field; we know what we’re doing.”

“Is the case rate high?”

“What do you mean?” she inquired as they entered the elevator.

“Most detectives are territorial of their cases; their cities. Do you get called in on a lot of cases?”

“We all have the mentality that these crimes affect us all – not just each individual district. It took a while for them to drop their egos, but we’ve pretty much come to an understanding.” Aaron nodded as the elevator doors opened revealing a glass door as a barrier blocking the commotion on the other side. Like the FBI BAU headquarters, there was a bullpen of detectives working on their cases and police officers escorting New York citizens to and from their destinations. “There are two New York BAU teams; one for the lesser offensive crimes and mine; who investigate the more serious crimes this city sees all the way from murder, rape and big white collar crime.” Once the glass door was opened, Aaron was met with the sounds of commotion from all around.

“This looks just like the BAU’s home office,” the man noticed, his eyes scanning and taking in every detail. Isabella nodded.

“We kind of hijacked the look,” she confessed with a small smile. “However, my office is a little bigger than what yours was as I have more to oversee.”

“I’m assuming you’re not married or have kids?” Aaron asked, following closely behind her as they made their way to the Captain’s office.

“No and no,” Isabella answered, a hint of sorrow in her voice as she stepped aside, allowing Hotch to enter her office, closing the door behind him. “I do, however, have a big family so that makes up for it.” Isabella sat at her desk, pushing Aaron’s police issued firearm his way. “Here are the standard forms you need to sign for the gun and your credentials; I assume you filled out all the boring paperwork prior to this.” Passing all the forms he needed to initial and sign, Isabella watched him closely as he did such.

“Is there a case your team is currently working on?” Aaron asked as his hand scribbled away. Isabella grabbed onto her rainbow colored slinky and nodded.

“We have one that the team is actually going to be reviewing the case in about…” Isabella checked her watch. “Ten minutes; just enough time for me to introduce you to the team and for them to grovel at your feet before we begin.” Aaron raised a puzzled brow just as he finished signing all forms. The Captain smirked up at him before getting to her feet, beckoning for Aaron to follow her, leaving the slinky on her desk. Quickly he gathered himself and followed closely behind Isabella as they walked to their destination; all eyes on Aaron Hotchner from those in the bullpen. He had to admit, all eyes on him left Aaron highly uncomfortable but he understood why they gawked.

Walking into the briefing room, Isabella’s team huddled around the table, their files closed as they waited for their leader. Behind Isabella came Hotchner; all eyes were on him as soon as he walked in. “Team, this is former SSA Aaron Hotchner,” Isabella introduced; Aaron offering a small smile and nod to his new team members.

There were five other team members whose attentions were pulled away from their case files. Aaron took quick glances of each, trying desperately to find resemblance of his last team in this new one. Out of the five, three of them were women; two of them women of color. One appeared to have been of African-American descent who wore her hair buzz cut short. She carried herself high with her chest up and shoulders back; Aaron guessed ex-military. The other appeared to have been of Hispanic descent with her caramel-toned skin and her curly hair worn loose. She wore a golden necklace with a name written in cursive on it; Angel. Hotch made a mental note to inquire about the necklace when the time arrived. The other woman was Caucasian and obviously older than the others with straight blonde hair and blue eyes.

As for the men; there were two on the team who instantly reminded him of Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid – his previous team members. Only these two gentlemen were reversed. While Derek Morgan was more muscular and built than Spencer Reid, the African-American man was more lanky with thick-rimmed glasses while the Caucasian man was more built with an arm tattoo; a Marine.

“Aaron, let me introduce to you to Candice Buvoltz, Michonne Wiggins, Elena Rodriguez, Jackson Brown and Jason Keesey.” Each team member nodded toward Aaron Hotchner, Jackson, the African-American male, giving a small wave.

“It’s a pleasure,” Hotch mumbled with a nod.

“How did you like working for the FBI?” Jackson asked, taking a slight step forward. Jason, with his arms folded across his bulky chest, stared at Jackson in annoyance, shaking his head.

“It was an experience,” Aaron answered sternly.

“I bet. I’ve read most of your team’s work; you guys are an inspiration,” Jackson spoke admirably. “How did you feel when you lost your wife to Foyet.” All eyes glared at Jackson as Elena, the Hispanic woman, smacked her lips.

“On that note,” Isabella interrupted, giving Hotchner an apologetic stare. “Are we all ready to prepare?” With audible groans from the team, they all sat at the round table, Isabella standing at the large television screen which held photographs of the recent murder found in New York City. Hotch took the open seat and immediately flipped through the manila folder. “Janelle Rambler,” Isabella started. “Found last night next to a dumpster in the alley of Parkway and Twenty-Third with three stab wounds to her torso.”

“Prostitute?” Candice asked, the Caucasian woman.

“No,” Isabelle answered quickly. Pressing a button on the remote, the slide switched to a smiling picture of the victim from the Wall Street Journal. “She was a new up and comer in the Street.”

“How did you I.D. her?” Hotch asked, his brows tugging together.

“Purse was next to the body when dispatch was called to the scene.”

“Mugging is not the motive then,” Aaron mumbled under his breath.

“Correct. There was also semen present but no signs of assault. Samples were already sent to get tested; we’re just waiting for those to get back.”

“I’ve read about Rambler; she closed one of the biggest deals for Wall Street. She’s the youngest and the first woman to ever do that in history,” Jackson spoke, his brow rising at the photographs. “She’s the girlfriend of Gerald Warner; another big Wall Street executive.” Aaron looked toward Jackson, instantly missing Reid.

“Good job Jackson; Candice, you go to the boyfriend’s house and question him on his whereabouts from nine last night ‘til six this morning. And I know you all are wondering why we’re on this case.” Isabella pressed another button on her remote, her gaze on the screen showing a recent photograph of the victim and who appeared to have been the mayor of New York. “You might have recognized her as our very own mayor’s stepdaughter.” Silence fell over the team as tensions rose. “Now I know we are all fond of our lovely mayor,” Isabella spoke with sarcasm. “But this has been ranked our top priority case.”

“Is the press on this yet?” Michonne asked, the African-American woman. It was Michonne who was in charge of their press conferences and any other media following. It was a job she did not ask for but eventually became the face of the NY BAU’s squad.

“Press is currently encouraged to keep quiet about this matter at the request of the Mayor, however, they are protected by the First Amendment and if they decide to run the story, we need to be on top of it.” With a nod the team rose, closing their files to take along with them. “Aaron, why don’t you tag along with Elena and Jason to the crime scene? I’m sure your keen eyes would be put to better use there.” 

* * *

 

Aaron gave the woman a nod before looking over to his fellow team members. Jason seemed to be unaffected knowing he’d be working with the ex-Agent while Elena struggled to hide her eye roll. However, as Isabella described it as ‘keen eyes’, Aaron caught onto the woman’s annoyance but decided to let it go. With a new group came new attitudes, new opinions and new people to try and get along with.

“Jackson, you stay here and put that brain to good use? Do some more research on Ms. Gambler along with her boyfriend?” Jackson nodded at the order, pulling out his iPad to begin his project.

Looking over to Michonne, Isabella beckoned for the woman to follow, grabbing her set of government issued car keys. “Morgue?” Michonne inquired, surprised by invite. Normally Michonne would tag along to the crime scene as the possibility of the press would surround the yellow police tape trying their best to get the best angle on the commotion happening around them. However, with Hotchner joining the team, Isabella believed it would be best to have his face on a high-profile case to give hope to the public and fear to the guilty. This little tactic was not something to be disclosed; Isabella nodded.

“Yeah, I figured you could use a change of scenery,” Isabella lied, keeping her back to her team member. Working with profilers deemed difficult at times whenever she needed to lie; the woman was a terrible liar after all. 

* * *

 

Out of their group, Michonne was the most qualified for the job as she previously worked as an Intelligence Analyst for the Marine Corp., later moving into profiling terrorists. With this in mind, Isabelle concentrated on her back muscles ensuring even they weren’t giving away her fib. “Plus I need fresh eyes on this one; everyone on our squad is observant but we all pay attention to different details. You’re a little better at looking outside the box when it comes to examining something; I need you with me for this one.” This time Isabella kept her gaze on her counterpart, hoping Michonne would agree.

Her talk seemed to do the trick as Michonne quietly entered Isabella’s black SUV, a proud small smirk pulling at her lips. Satisfied with this, Isabella pulled out from the parking lot and onto the busy road of New York City. As the case was rather time sensitive, the police lights were switched on, giving them way to travel through the streets with ease. “So this Hotchner guy; he really as good as everyone makes him out to be?” Michonne asked keeping her eyes on the road.

“Him and his team worked some of the most gruesome, tragic and heinous serial cases all over the nation. They have solved hundreds of murders, missing persons, serial rapes … you name it…”

“And when were you planning on telling the rest of us he was joining our team. I didn’t know we needed another.” Now Michonne’s gaze was on Isabella, burning a hole in her skin.

“I wasn’t,” Isabella answered truthfully. “Plus I didn’t know I needed to get a vote on it as, last I remember, I am the Captain and organizer of the unit.” Exchanging glances with the woman sitting next to her, the Captain turned into the city’s morgue building, pulling into the parking lot. “Aaron will be a good addition.” Though her tone was authoritative, there was a hint of an apology for her snap.

“I don’t doubt that; I just want to know the motives behind bringing another person into an already packed unit.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Without another word, the woman exited the SUV, dropping down to the ground with a thud. Michonne eyed her leader for another moment before following suit, forcefully closing the door.

“If you don’t trust your own team with whatever it is you’re planning, then you obviously didn’t recruit the right team.” Wishing Michonne would let it go; Isabella kept her mouth quiet as they entered the building. Flashing their badges to the receptionist, Isabella offered a smile; they ventured toward the Medical Examiner assigned to their cases. Allison Connelly had been put on the highest pedestal as she was the best Medical Examiner in New York; her degrees, journals and many awards proved as such. Having Dr. Connelly as the ME for the NY BAU was a privilege and an honor for Isabella as she admired Connelly’s work. In addition, they were very good friends.  

Walking into the examination lab, Isabella placed a wide grin on her face as Connelly looked up from Rambler’s body. “Come join the party,” Connelly invited, waving the women over. “Unfortunately I don’t have any favors to give out but I do have some information regarding the murder weapon.” Isabella’s eyes lit up, knowing the identification of a murder weapon could be the clue that makes or breaks a case. “The instrument used to penetrate our victim’s torso appears to be some sort of spiral entanglement with a point; much like a corkscrew.”

“Maybe she was having wine with her significant other and things got heated?” Michonne pondered with a shrug.

“Or maybe she was having wine with someone she wasn’t supposed to and things got a little out of hand; either way, at least we know what we’re looking for.” Isabella nodded toward Michonne before averting her gaze back to the ME. “Is there anything else odd about the body?”

“Yeah; she was pregnant.” The two profiler’s brows rose at the information. “Just a few weeks, probably didn’t even know yet but there is definitely a little nugget in there.”

“Can you not refer to the fetus as a nugget?” Michonne rhetorically asked with an eye roll.

“Take me or leave me, Detective.” Allison looked back down to the body, continuing her completion of the body.

“Thanks Allie,” Isabella thanked before she turned on her heel, making her way toward the door. “Oh and are we still on for tomorrow night?”

“You got it,” Allison responded, putting thumbs up in the air.

At the boyfriend’s house, Candice stood by the window as Mr. Warner sat in disbelief. He was silent processing the news of his girlfriend’s death. The woman gave him a moment to settle; she was never really good with emotions but she understood others weren’t like her; they didn’t know how to cope with death easily. On the other hand, Candice lost both her parents as a child and later lost her grandparents – who were raising her – as a freshman in college. It seemed death was a pretty common thing around the blonde and she learned to cope with it better than most people. She had gotten into law enforcement because of her rare skill; being able to detach herself from emotional situations and walk away without a metaphorical scratch.

In most cases it was Candice who would break the news to the families of the deceased as Michonne was assigned another task and Elena allowed her emotions to get the best of her. Candice didn’t mind doing it but a part of her wished she could provide some kind of comfort for the families as they broke down in front of her.

“My condolences Mr. Warner,” the woman spoke softly while the man seemed to have calmed down. “How long were you and Ms. Rambler dating?” The man paused before he gave the specific time of three years, six months and two days. The exact time had struck Candice as odd as not many men remembered such anniversaries. “That’s oddly specific that you would know the time down to the day.”

“Yeah well she wasn’t just any girl; she was  _ the  _ girl. We went out last night to celebrate her promotion and that’s when I had asked her to marry me.” This news caused Candice’s brows to rise; the victim wasn’t wearing an engagement ring.

“You guys were engaged?” He nodded. “Do you have a picture or the order receipt to the ring you bought her?”

“Why?”

“She wasn’t wearing a ring when she was found.”

At the crime scene, Elena and Jason spoke with officers while Aaron looked around the area where the victim was found. There were signs of a struggle; the dumpster had an indentation though it was unclear if it belonged to the victim or not. Trash had been thrown around and bags were scattered as if a fight or struggle had happened in the area. The green door which was conveniently placed just outside where the murder happened led into a very expensive but popular restaurant in New York. The location was relevant, this Aaron knew, but why? Why had the victim walked in the alley way, or did she attend a dinner date and end up in the alley way afterward?

“What are you thinking?” Jason joined the ex-FBI agent by the door as Aaron examined the barrier. Hotch didn’t answer but looked to the handle. It appeared to have been cleaned recently; the green color more prominent than the rest of the door. Kneeling down to examine the handle, Aaron spotted a dot of dark red liquid; dried blood.

“Is CSU done going over the crime scene?” Aaron asked; keeping his gaze on the speck of blood located just under the door handle.

“I think they’re finishing up; why?” Jason walked over to his team mate, kneeling down where he spotted the visible evidence. “Unsub stabbed her then returned inside the restaurant?” the man asked Hotch, his face scrunching.

“Appears that way.”

Elena, who had been busy with the other cops and keeping the citizens of New York controlled, walked over to the men, inquiring if they had found anything. Immediately Jason jumped up and informed her of the find while Aaron continued scanning the crime scene. No murder weapon was found at the scene but the text message from his leader informed them they were looking for some kind of object similar to a corkscrew. With this in mind, Aaron turned back to the green door realizing the restaurant located in front of him was famous for its imported wines and other alcoholic beverages.

“What are you thinking?” Elena asked the man knowing his mind was buzzing with possible scenarios.

“Isabella believes the murder weapon is similar to a corkscrew … what restaurant is this again?”

“Bella Italiano,” Elena answered, moving her gaze to where he was staring at. “You think someone stabbed her out here with something from in there?”

“It’s worth a shot.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Aaron Hotchner leaves the FBI BAU, he moves to New York in an attempt to lead a normal life; that was until NY BAU Captain Isabella Gambino contacted him, offering him a position in New York's newest task force. The New York City Behavioral Analysis Unit. It took much time, but Hotchner agreed. Learn how he copes with a new team and a new leader who has secrets of her own.

* * *

Sitting in her office, Isabella’s eyes scanned the words on her computer screen. Though her eyes skimmed the lettering, her mind traveled to distances far from where she was. The case was an odd one and normally her mind would be for solving it in no time, but with the very recent events taken place in her personal life, Isabella was in no shape to be working. However, she was the leader of a pristine New York Task Force and she had to ensure the team’s reputation maintained high in the eyes of the citizens and politicians. Her sorrowful eyes weighed heavy while images flashed in her mind. Memory lane wasn’t a street she often traveled on but the dam had been broken by the e-mail she had received.

With her mind so preoccupied, Isabella hadn’t realized Aaron Hotchner walked into her office, his hand waving in front of her face. “That must be one mesmerizing report,” he spoke once he had his Captain’s attention. The woman blinked away her thoughts as a small smile tugged at her lips. “Where were you?”

“Just thinking about the case,” she lied, sitting back in her seat. It was evident to Hotch of her deceit; he was a better lie detector than she thought. He noticed the glisten in her eyes from what he assumed was the start and pause of held back tears. He noticed the slight reddening of her cheeks and her nostrils flared as she controlled her breathing. Whatever news she had gotten wasn’t good. “What do you have for me?”

“I found blood at the crime scene just under the door knob to the restaurant she was found behind,” he began, standing in front of her desk. “CSU took samples and are running the DNA right now. We then entered the restaurant and asked if the victim had been a patron last night and it turns out she was.” This took Isabella by surprise; according to the boyfriend the victim was with him last night; where they had celebrated their wasn’t anywhere near the restaurant. “The reservation was under her name; it is still a mystery as to who she was meeting with.” Isabella nodded at the information, her fingertips touching together.

“Are there cameras at the restaurant?” she inquired, her gaze on her computer screen as an e-mail notification flashed.

“At the entrance; Elena is going over the footage right now. May I ask …”

“How can you get on her good graces?” Isabella finished for him. With a nod, the woman sat up in her seat placing her elbows against her desk. “She’s kind of a tough cookie; born and raised in Puerto Rico and not in the tourist or nice parts of it either. She’s been through some shit. Had four older brothers so she believes she has to prove herself wherever she goes. Having you come into the team probably makes her feel as if she needs to prove herself all over again. Give her some time – she’ll come around.”

“Did anyone from the team know about me joining the squad?”

Isabella hesitated in answering the question. Her team had a feeling something was going to change within them; however they believed someone was getting booted. Instead they came face to face with the man who had conducted and managed the FBI’s BAU task force. The woman knew they would feel intimidated or angered by his appearance. She also knew they would be a better team with someone who had more experience.

“I’ll take your silence as a no.”

“Look, I understand that I probably should have consulted with my team but I knew what their reactions and responses would be. It was easier to bring you along without hearing the groans and annoyed sighs beforehand.”

“Don’t you think they feel like they can’t trust you now?”

“If they feel that way, then maybe they shouldn’t be with the team.” It was a blunt statement, she was aware of it. But with how hard she had worked to convince the Mayor to create the task force, bring teams together and the right people for the right jobs, Isabella believed she had the right to do with her team what she needed to keep it successful.

A knock came from the door and Elena’s head peeked inside. “I don’t mean to interrupt but I wanted to let you guys know I found nothing on the tapes. If she was meeting with someone, they never showed.”

* * *

 

In the briefing room the NY BAU gathered to piece together what they had learned so far. On the large glass board, Jackson had placed photographs, note cards with descriptions under each picture and other items to help the group with the connections. Isabella stood by the door, her eyes scanning the board as her finger rubbed her chin. Candice spoke about her time with the boyfriend as Elena and Aaron inspected the images she had printed out of the security footage. Michonne stood with Isabella watching the team.

“Are we going to disclose the pregnancy?” Michonne inquired, her arms folded across her chest. Isabella noticed this and took in a breath.  _ Maybe Aaron was right. _

“I think it would be wise to do so,” Isabella agreed with a nod, giving Michonne the cue to inform the group. She stepped forward, getting the attention of the team as Isabella stayed back. Her eyes lingered to her teammates, their gazes on Michonne as she disclosed their findings with the Medical Examiner. The discovery of the pregnancy forced Jackson to formulate his own prediction of what had happened; who killed the victim, why and how. The words spoke were lost in translation as Isabella’s mind moved to the email she received early.

The case took precedence in her life; the mayor had phoned her three times in the course of the day with questions on where they were at, if there were any suspects and why hadn’t she solved his step-daughter’s murder. The NY BAU had made quite a name for itself; Isabella didn’t want one case to sully the name simply because a family member had passed away, not one who she hadn’t had contact with for over ten years.

“What are your thoughts?” Isabella’s attention was snapped back to the briefing room as Michonne turned to look at her. All eyes were on the Captain as they all waited to hear her opinion on their next move.

“Jason, I think you and Candice should go see the fiancée; ask if he ever suspected Rambler of cheating before informing him of the pregnancy. For all we know the fetus could have been someone else’s…”

“How do we know the suspect is a male?” Jackson questioned, his hand raised as if he was in school.

“We don’t,” Aaron answered for her.

Isabella’s distracted demeanor was obvious to the ex-FBI agent and to the rest of the group, but Aaron had been there; being the leader of the FBI BAU and having a problematic personal life put a weight on his shoulders. During those times he wished he was able to have someone take over, allowing him to deal with the issues at hand but Aaron chose his job over his life and because of that he lost the mother of his child; the love of his life.

“It’s obvious it was a crime of passion, because of this it is more likely the unsub is a male.” Isabella gave him a thankful nod, offering a small smile before she pushed herself off the wall.

“Elena why don’t you take Michonne back to the restaurant and interview anyone who was there that night; maybe someone remembers her and the person she was with.” Both women nodded as they gathered their things before heading out the door; Jason following behind with Candice. “Jackson, is there any way – with your expertise – that you could go to her office and speak with her boss; maybe see if you can log onto her old computer and see what you can find? Aaron, you can accompany him.” Without another word Isabella turned on her heel and sulked off to her office, closing the door behind her.

She slumped in her desk chair, her hands finding her face. The day was coming to an end in a few hours and Isabella knew she wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep; might as well work through the night and nap on her lounge chair in her office whenever sleep did decide to join her.

Hearing a faint knock on her door forced a small sigh to escape her lips, her eyes opening to find Aaron walking through the doorway. “What can I do for you Hotch?” the woman offered, sitting up in her seat.

“Are you okay?” he inquired, his voice soft.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re having a hard time convincing yourself that, aren’t you?” Isabella scuffed; folding her arms across her chest as her leg crossed the other.

“I don’t mean to be rude, Hotchner, but you’re in no position to be stepping a line on your first day.”

“I apologize if I am but, it just seems like you need someone to talk to.” Isabella didn’t protest; he was right. However, her personal life wasn’t to be broadcasted even to a member of her team. No one, despite the year and some of being together, knew about their leader’s life outside of the office; Isabella intended on keeping it that way.

“I appreciate the kind gesture,” the woman spoke, her tone softened. “However, right now we need to focus on the case and I’m sure Jackson is looking forward to work beside you.” Taking this as his cue to leave, Hotch nodded toward Isabella before reaching for the door knob, exiting the room.

Candice and Jason stood in the kitchen of Gerald Warner’s home as the mourning fiancée worked on cleaning the countless of dishes accumulated. The accusation of his future wife cheating on him had risen the tension between him and the detectives; the duo stood quietly with their hands in their pockets as they watched Mr. Warner closely. He said nothing and refused to speak after Candice revealed the news of the pregnancy.

Both detectives grew annoyed with Mr. Warner’s silence, wondering if they should give him some time to process the information. “I understand this is a tough time. When you are ready to talk, please give us a call at any time,” Jason spoke, lightly tapped his co-worker on the arm, beckoning for her to follow him.

“Wait.” Mr. Warner shut off the faucet, drying his hands. “I didn’t know about the pregnancy. Honestly, Elle told me some sob story about how she had cervical cancer and she couldn’t have children. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to be with her.”

 

“Because she couldn’t pro-create?” Candice questioned.

 

“Because we’d be forced to adopt; there are too many kids out there who need families - homes. I figured one day I could convince her to adopt a few with me.”

“Convince?”

“Yeah, Janelle didn’t want any kids. Said they ruined her life plan … whatever that meant.” Candice and Jason exchanged glances. “Her being pregnant would have changed everything.”

“Did the two of you ever use protection when you were intimate?” Jason inquired.

“Of course not; she couldn’t get pregnant so we refrained from it. Look, I don’t want to say anything else unless I have my lawyer present.” The detective gave a nod of understanding, seeing themselves out of the home. Once the door was closed behind them, Jason looked over to the blonde and scuffed.

“If I had a chick tell me she was sterile I wouldn’t have used a condom either, but knowing she got pregnant somehow … that must be rough.”

“If for some miracle he found out about her pregnancy, that gives him motive.”

“How come?”

“You heard him; she had a life plan, but so did he. Janelle getting pregnant would have rectified everything he wanted.”

“That’s a little far fetched, don’t you think?”

“Not at all; there’s no telling what someone would do when they’re life plan gets messed up.”

At the victim’s job, Jackson and Aaron walked through the doors flashing their badges. Unlike most people, those occupying the building believed they were above the law and looked down upon the detectives. However, Aaron noticed the victim’s boss seemed broken up about the situation and Rambler’s assistant. The assistant had good reasons; she claimed they were more than just coworkers but best friends. Attending the same high school and college together, they were inseparable. The boss, however, Aaron kept an eye on.  

They were escorted to Rambler’s office which resembled an image out of a catalog magazine. Large windows scaled from ceiling to floor with marble counters against the glass; many floral ornaments littered the counter tops along with photographs, home decoration statues and a printer. Toward the far corner of the office rested a large glass desk with the placard reading ‘J. Rambler’. They were definitely in the right office.

The ex-FBI agent examined the area while Jackson worked his magic on the victim’s work computer. Immediately he opened up her e-mail, flipping through the dozens of unread e-mails she received. One in particular stood out; the one from her boss. From the corner of his eye he watched Fitzpatrick, watching for any indications he was nervous; the nail biting signaled a tick. This caused Jackson’s finger to click open the e-mail, his eyes scanning the contents.

“Hotch,” Jackson mumbled, getting the attention of the man. Aaron moved to where Jackson was, his gaze finding what Jackson had found. With a raised brow, Aaron moved his glance up to the victim’s boss.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick, were you and the victim having an affair?”

* * *

 

Elena and Michonne were not welcomed to Bella Italiano as chefs worked tirelessly in preparation for the busy day ahead. Alejandro, the manager, explained Friday nights were normally hectic with a full house and a booked schedule with diners. Being one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York, the information didn’t surprise the detectives. As a matter of fact, they expected it. What they hadn’t expected was for the waitress who served the victim and her plus one to be present at the restaurant.

The waitress’s name was Jessica. She held her platinum blonde hair in a high ponytail, her make-up light but obvious and her light blue bore into the detective as she answered the multiple questions regarding guests she had had. The victim and her guest hadn’t been in the restaurant long but Jessica described the victim’s posture as melancholy while her guest seemed excited. It was at this point when Michonne turned her phone toward the waitress, showing her a picture of the victim’s known boyfriend.

“Nah, that wasn’t who was with her that night. But I do remember seeing him at another table.” Elena and Michonne exchanged glances. “He actually reserved that table through the manager which is why it’s not in the books; but he had that table over there.” Jessica turned and pointed toward the table where Gerald Warner had sat.

“Can you describe what the other gentleman looked like?” Elena inquired.

“Salt and pepper hair cut short.” The waitress paused, collecting her memory. “He had blue eyes … definitely white.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He had one of those last names that only rich old white men would have … Fitz something?” Jessica explained with a shrug. “He also had a scar on his upper lip.”

“Thank you so much for your time. If we have any other questions, may we contact you?” Michonne interrupted.

“Sure; I practically live here so find me here.” With a nod, Elena and Michonne began making their way toward the restaurant exit. They were met with a cool breeze as they walked through the large double doors, being greeted with a setting sun.

“Why did you cut the interview short?” Elena asked her partner, her hand finding Michonne’s arm to stop her from walking.

“’Cause I know who she’s talking about.”

* * *

 

“Henry Fitzpatrick. Boss to Janelle Rambler and Gerald Warner who so happens to have had an affair with the victim.” After her team members returned to the station with their findings, Isabella escorted them to the briefing room where Jackson was already adding more information to their board. Instantly the Captain liked the fiancé for the crime, especially after Jason had revealed Mr. Warner’s urgency for a lawyer.

“His tone was sincere, but I could tell in his body language he wanted us out of their A.S.A.P.,” the man explained.

“Fitzpatrick did say he believed he saw Warner at the restaurant but he is unsure as he did have a few glasses of Scotch. He left the table around eleven and exited the front of the building; obviously Rambler didn’t follow suit.” Jackson nodded along as Aaron recanted Henry Fitzpatrick’s words. “He broke down in his office when we interviewed him; he was really broken up about her death.”

“That, and he didn’t know about the others,” Jackson added. Isabella raised a brow, urging him to continue. “Apparently Rambler was having multiple affairs.” This revelation caused the team’s brows to rise. “One of them was another Wall Street big shot, another one was a bartender at Bello Italiano and the other one was ...”

“Wait.” Isabella stopped Jackson from his thought process, putting a hand up as the other rested on her hip. “She was having an affair with a bartender at the same restaurant she was killed behind?”

Jackson nodded.

“And the murder weapon is something similar to a corkscrew … or is a corkscrew?” Michonne’s face softened, the light bulb going off in her head of Isabella’s implementation.

“We need to find out who this bartender is,” Michonne thought aloud.

“Michonne and Elena, if you ladies can stop by the restaurant and ask about him before you guys go home, I would appreciate it,” Isabella instructed; both women giving a nod before they headed out the door, grabbing their belongings before they left the building. “As for everyone else, great work. We’ll continue this tomorrow morning seven a.m. sharp.”

The rest of her team collected their belongings and headed out of the briefing room, including Isabella. Heading for her office she zoned out as her eyes scanned the screen of her cell phone. She had three missed calls from her sister and an unknown number. Letting out a sigh, the woman dropped her phone on her desk as she sat back in her seat, pulling out her purse from her locked desk drawer. Upon extracting her bag, Isabella’s eyes grazed the photograph she had beneath it.

It was of her family when it was happy so many years ago. In the image Isabella was around the tender age of eight; her brother’s smiling face looking up to her and her sister’s toothless grin toward their father. Both her parents looked as if the years hadn’t touched them; they were a young happy couple after all. Placing the photograph in her lap, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

She missed how her family had been back then.

Now Isabella hadn’t spoken to her father in almost twenty years; same with her mother. Her brother was deceased and her sister only contacted her whenever she had a free time … or when there was an emergency.

Looking back to her phone, Isabella’s finger hovered over her sister’s name, battling between returning the call or ignoring it. She knew why Vanessa was trying to reach her, however, Isabella would rather keep her emotions to herself than speak to someone about her grief.

A knock came from her door and the woman quickly threw the photograph in her drawer, locking it. Looking up, Aaron peeked into the office, saying his farewells.

“Aaron, please come in,” Isabella welcomed with a smile. “How was your first day?”

“It went well,” the man answered with a nod, stepping into her office. “Oddly enough I feel at home despite it being a case where a woman was murdered.”

“It’s not a crime to love your job, Aaron; I think that’s where you’re stuck. These cases, they break our hearts but the reward is finding and prosecuting the bastards who commit these crimes. And finding hostages if there are some. You’ll get your mojo back soon enough. Until then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

That morning Isabella woke to the sound of rustling footsteps outside her office door. Just as predicted she had spent the night on her sofa; her tired eyes had scanned all the reports sent to her with regards to the case. Elena and Michonne’s update on the bartender and his absence at work that night hadn’t been a surprise; Isabella expected it. Once he realized the police were investigating the murder of a politician’s deceased daughter, he skipped town – at least it's what Isabella predicted.

What puzzled the detective was Mr. Warner’s deception; why hide his knowledge of his fiance's infidelity? It was a question Isabella planned on asking as soon as Mr. Warner arrived at the station with his lawyer. First and foremost, the woman needed to get up – dress for the new day so the others knew nothing of her unpaid overtime hours put into the case.

Getting to her feet, Isabella quickly dressed in the clothes laid out for her, pulling her curly hair into a messy bun and touching up the light make-up she had slept in. She then hid her overnight bag below her desk before she opened her door to venture into the bullpen for a cup of fresh coffee.

Many of those in the pit arrived half an hour before her team to prepare for the long day; Jason surprised her at the coffee station with a readied mug in hand for Isabella.

“Good morning,” he greeted with a smile. Eyeing him carefully, the woman happily grabbed the cup, taking in the sweet scent of coffee and hazelnut.

“You always did know how to make an amazing cup of Joe,” she mumbled before taking a careful sip.

“One of my specialties.” Jason smiled, beckoning for her to follow him up to the briefing room where she was met with a finished evidence board. Raising her brow to the man, Isabella questioned his work. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I came in around three to finish up what Jackson started. I noticed the light in your office was still on but I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You do know you’re never going to hear the end of it, right?” she inquired, hinting toward the fact that Jackson didn’t like to have his work of art messed with in any way. “But you did a great job.” The woman didn’t further the conversation about her time in the office, knowing it would lead to questions and questions led to lying; Jason had a knack for calling Isabella out on her bluff.

“Thanks.” Jason set his mug down onto the table, walking over to the board. “I pretty much have everything set up; whenever we get the answers for the questions we can fill them in.” Isabella’s eyes scanned the board once again, realizing each piece of the puzzle the team didn’t have was filled in with a pink note card, a black question mark drawn on it.

“I want to bring in the fiancée; hopefully he can shed some light as to why he would lie about knowing Rambler had an affair.”

“My question exactly,” Jason agreed. “I thought he was a bit suspicious when Candice and I interviewed him,” he continued, sitting down at the table across from his Captain.

“How else did he seem?”

“Stand-off-ish; definitely wanted us out of there as soon as we questioned him about it. But when we mentioned Fitzpatrick, I could tell his posture changed defensively.” Isabella nodded, taking a sip from her coffee. “Look, the guy’s an asshole. I like him for this despite the bartender skipping town..”

“Wait … how do you know that?” Isabella sat back in her chair, her coffee cup on the table.

“Elena called me to give me the heads up. Afterward I went to the bartender’s house and his roommate told me he packed up his things and left.”

“When were you planning on disclosing this information?”

“…right now?” Jason’s eyes narrowed to his boss, letting out a sigh. “When everyone was here.”

“Jason!” Isabella got to her feet, Jason following.

“Bell, please.”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” the woman reminded him, pointing a finger at him. Jason held up his hands as a form of apology, giving in. “Do we at least know a name for the bartender?” she asked, calming.

“Jeffrey Bailey. I ran his name and he does have a few priors; all for possession.” Isabella nodded, making her way to the board.

“Odd she would be having an affair with someone who is the complete opposite of the men she had in her life.”

“They went to high school together,” Jason interrupted. Isabella’s gaze moved from the board to the man, her brow rose. “And they were sweethearts.” He nodded toward the counter where Isabella noticed a few notepads and a yearbook. “According to the roommate … who graduated with them … they were the kind of high school sweethearts that snuck around behind their parents’ backs to meet with each other after hours.”

“That explains it; good girl with a rebellious bad boy. It’s the classic love story.”

“Kind of like the way we were,” Jason pointed out, stepping closer to Isabella. The woman offered a small smile before rolling her eyes.

“Please; you know damn well it was the other way around,” she joked, playful giving him a shove. Jason grabbed her arm with a smile, pulling her into a hug.

“I miss the way we were.”

Isabella sighed, her eyes closing in his chest; she took in his scent. As much as she wanted to admit her true feelings, Isabella knew there was no way they were able to work; not with her superiority over him or their line of work. It was bad enough waiting for him to contact her while he was overseas; if something were to happen to him under her authority, she would never be able to forgive herself. Pulling away from his embrace, Isabella sighed once again. “We can’t.”

“Good morning.” Elena entered the room with a smile on her face and a tall cup of Starbucks coffee held tightly in her hand; Michonne following closely behind her. Though it wasn’t public knowledge, the two women had been in a relationship since before their recruitment to the task force. Isabella was well aware of the relationship and brought the two women on with hopes they’d leave their relationship out of the office at all times. Since their hire, they had been able to work with pristine compatibility and were able to keep their relationship happy.

Jason was well aware of their affair and would periodically question Isabella on her refusal; but they weren’t leaders of the task force … they were equals.

“Good morning,” Isabella chimed with a matching smile, stepping away from the man. “Have a good night you two?” Michonne nodded, her eyes glued on the board.

“Did Jackson stay late?” she questioned. Isabella looked over to Jason with a smirk, allowing him the opportunity to admit his late night. Elena and Michonne shook their heads, knowing they would hear Jackson’s constant nagging and Jason’s responsive sighs throughout the day.

Just as Jason opened his mouth to explain, Aaron walked through the door dressed in a navy button-up shirt and dark slacks; his credentials and gun resting on his hip. This surprised Isabella; she didn’t expect seeing him loosen up so early in the process.

“Good morning everyone,” Aaron greeted, a small smile on his face as he set his briefcase down onto the table. The Captain wasn’t the only one surprised by the difference in Aaron’s demeanor; the other team members mumbled their greetings as their wide eyes gave him a once over.

“Wait ‘til Candice sees him,” Elena whispered to Michonne with a smirk. Shaking her head, Isabella walked over to the board.

“Regardless of who organized the board, it is time for us to get down to business,” she spoke as soon as Jackson and Candice walked into the room. Jackson’s eyes immediately noticed the board and she could see his anger begin to rise. But he stood quiet, leaning against the wall in an attempt to calm himself down as Candice joined the others at the table. “Elena and Michonne discovered yet another affair Ms. Rambler was having; the bartender of Bello Italiano – Jeffrey Bailey. Who, as Jason was so kind to research, has prior possession charges and had a previous relationship with the victim before her time with the Street.”

The team nodded, taking in the information their leader was providing.

“With a witness putting the fiancé at the restaurant, I will be getting a search warrant for his apartment which Elena and Michonne will execute once Mr. Warner arrives with his lawyer. Aaron and Jason, I would appreciate it if the two of you would conduct the interrogation. Jackson and Candice, go to Fitzpatrick and see if he had any idea of the other affair.”

* * *

 

Mr. Warner walked into the gray interrogation room with his lawyer walking closely behind him. His attorney sported white wings above his ears, his dark bushy eyebrows created a dramatic effect in his aging face. Jason knew the attorney well as his face was littered across New York City on billboards, buses, Taxi ads and bus stations. Aaron, on the other hand, knew attorneys like him.

Before joining the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit, Aaron Hotchner had been a Federal District Attorney; he had met many attorneys believing they were invincible and above the law. Keeping a stern face, Aaron watched as the opposing attorney gave the detective a once over.

“Gentleman,” Jason greeted, closing the door behind him.

“Gentleman,” the attorney repeated. “I am Marshall Crowe, Mr. Warner’s attorney.”

“Let’s get this over with so I can go back to planning my fiancé’s funeral.” Mr. Warner leaned back in his seat, his body language confident.

“I believe the Mayor is already ensuring Ms. Rambler’s funeral will be taken care of, Mr. Warner,” Jason informed him as he opened a manila folder, showing the gruesome crime scene photographs of the victim. Mr. Warner’s face scrunched, looking away.

“What is this?” his attorney immediately questioned.

“This is your client’s work up close; don’t you want to see what you did, Gerald?” Aaron spoke calmly. From his experience, he knew how to speak with unsubs. Though the case was nothing compared to the brutality Aaron had previously seen, it was still a murder; someone’s child, someone’s loved one.

“My client wasn’t at the restaurant at the time of the murder; you have no proof. Instead you’re hassling a mourning …”

“We have a witness who places your client in the restaurant at the same time as the victim while she was having dinner with their boss.” The defense attorney looked toward his client with a raised brow; he was unaware. Mr. Warner avoided his gaze as he sighed.

“Yeah, I was there,” he confessed, closing the manila folder. “I heard rumors she was having an affair and I didn’t want to believe it. But I received a text message of a picture of them together at the restaurant after she told me she was going straight home.”

“So you went to the restaurant, spied on them and when Fitzpatrick left you decided to take your anger out on her?” Jason questioned, stepping closer to the suspect.

“No!”

“I would advise you to keep your mouth shut,” Crowe advised him, straightening his suit jacket.

“Who sent you the picture of them together?” Aaron asked, curious. Warner shrugged as he extracted his cell phone, pulling up the text message on his screen. The number on the top of the screen showed a 212 area code. “You don’t recognize that number?” the detective asked, taking down the number, dialing it on his own phone. Mr. Warner shook his head.

They sat quietly as the phone continued to ring. Just as Aaron believed it would be sent to voicemail, a male voice picked up the phone with a casual ‘Fitzpatrick.’

Silence fell over the room, the men puzzled by the revelation. “Antonio Fitzpatrick?” Jason questioned. Immediately the line went dead as the detectives exchanged glances.

“That son of a bitch.”

Her eyes wide, Isabella gripped her phone, dialing Candice’s number. She and Jackson were to question Fitzpatrick on his knowledge of the victim’s other affair; Isabella believed he had already known or wanted Ms. Rambler all to himself. Once Candice answered the phone, Isabella revealed their findings and instructed for Candice to bring Fitzpatrick into the station for questioning – with or without handcuffs.

Mr. Warner was free to go after giving consent to the agency to review his phone records. Aaron and Jason joined Isabella in the side room where they discussed the sudden plot twist in the case; it was a shock to all three. Before they could further their conversation, Isabella’s phone began vibrating with Candice’s name flashing on the screen.

“Bell we have a situation.” Candice’s voice sounded rushed, breathless even. “Fitzpatrick isn’t here but his door was wide open. There’s blood here.” Jason, Aaron and Isabella exchanged glances between themselves.

“We’re on our way.”

* * *

 

“There was a struggle here.” In the car ride over, Jason had called Elena to inform her and Michonne of the new twist in the case. As soon as the trio arrived, Candice immediately directed them toward the large kitchen area where they witnessed reminisce of a struggle. Blood droplets littered the floors and they were careful not to step on any evidence until the Crime Scene Unit cleared the area.

“Going through his laptop…” Jackson walked into the kitchen as Isabella reached the living room. She turned to look at him. “…it appears he knew about her affair with Mr. Bailey and he was planning on killing the victim and framing the fiancée.”

“You got all that with his laptop?” Jason questioned with his brows raised.

“He kept video diaries,” Jackson revealed. “There’s something else you should see.” Suddenly it felt as if a weight dropped in her gut as they all followed Jackson to the suspect’s bedroom where Jackson had a video feed ready to be played. “He has cameras all around his apartment.” Jackson played the feed which showed clearly Herald Fitzpatrick and Jeffrey Bailey fighting in the kitchen. Within seconds Fitzpatrick had grabbed a knife, thrusting it into Bailey’s stomach.

“Now we know where the droplets came from,” Jason mumbled as he continued watching how Fitzpatrick hoisted Bailey over his shoulder and out of view from the cameras.

“Put out an APB on Fitzpatrick. If he didn’t leave the city yet, he will be soon.”

* * *

 

Isabella watched from the other side of the one way mirror as Elena and Jason interrogated Herald Fitzpatrick on the murder of Janelle Rambler and the disappearance of Jeffrey Bailey. It was a clear cut case now; they had their guy and the Mayor could be at peace with his step-daughter’s killer getting justice. It was always a relieving feeling whenever the cases would get solved and not shoved in some warehouse with other cold cases; plus it gave her team brownie points from the Mayor and the possibility for more funding to hire their own technical analyst like the FBI had.

Though the weight of the case had fallen off her shoulders, Isabella still felt as if she needed a deep tissue massage and a good amount of tequila to end the day.

Aaron stood beside her, his arms crossed against his toned chest and his eyes on Fitzpatrick. “What I don’t understand is, why kill her? If he knew she was having another affair, why not just out their relationship?”

“Because a man’s ego is the most fragile thing in this world,” Isabella answered, averting her gaze toward the man. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Aaron replied with a smirk. 

 

* * *

 

Stepping down from the stair the woman waved off her team as they all headed toward their vehicles to head home for the night. With a smile she watched as Candice, Michonne and Elena carpooled out of the parking area, Jason and Jackson following behind them. Immediately she noticed a missing member from her team. Looking around she found Aaron exiting from the building, his briefcase in hand. Offering him a smile, Isabella waited for him at the bottom of the stairs. “Have your son for the night?” she inquired knowing he shared custody with his deceased wife’s sister.

“No, he’s with his aunt tonight,” he informed her as a look of relief washed over him.

“Hey if you’re not doing anything, you’re more than welcome to join me and the ME for dinner. We always go to this Mexican joint a few streets down; they serve the best carnitas and Authentic Mexican tacos I’ve ever had outside of Mexico.”

The offer took him off guard, but he was thankful for it. Since moving to New York the man hadn’t been out to explore its wonder and discover why everyone loved it so much. Letting out a short breath, Aaron nodded. “Sure, I could use a night away from home for a bit.” With a smile, Isabella beckoned for him to follow her.

After placing their briefcases in their vehicles, the pair moved slowly down the sidewalk speaking on anything but the closed case. As much as they both loved their jobs, the two knew – mentally – they needed time away.

Isabella wore a smile as Aaron explained his job duties from his previous occupation and about the people he used to work with. He missed them; Isabella could tell by the way he spoke about them with such honor. He went into detail about their technical analyst and her friendship with another team member; a Derek Morgan. Isabella kept quiet as Aaron reminisced on his days with the FBI. She knew his new team would never compare to his old one, nor would the work. But Isabella made it a goal for Aaron to enjoy his time with them.

“Chocolate Thunder?” Isabella questioned before a bout of laughter bellowed from her throat. “She did not call him that!” Aaron nodded, his own chuckle joining hers. “I would love to meet this Penelope Garcia one day; she sounds like a girl after my own heart.” The pair stopped at the restaurant which resembled more of a residential home made into a small shop. As soon as they approached the building, Isabella’s phone began ringing. It was Connelly, the ME who worked on their cases.

As Isabelle spoke on the phone, Aaron looked around their surroundings. The evening sun hung onto the purple and orange sky as a hint of the moon began to show through. He assumed the restaurant was popular as small crowds of people entered and exited the building, all with smiles on their faces. Vehicles rushed passed them; their red lights growing smaller. It was a change from the less busy streets of Quantico, Virginia and the air seemed dense; polluted. Hotch knew the change of city meant giving up everything he loved about Quantico, but he missed the fresh air, less noise and less people.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us tonight.” Isabella placed her cell phone into her pocket, offering a shrug to the man. “Connelly is held up doing an autopsy on another body that came in; you don’t mind do you?”

“Of course not,” Aaron assured her with a smile as they entered the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Thank you a bunch for reading! Please leave a kudos and/or review; it would be highly appreciated!


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